


Something Borrowed, Something Blue

by RedellaRed2001



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 06:26:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedellaRed2001/pseuds/RedellaRed2001
Summary: Voldemort fell during the first war at James and Lily Potter's wands the very night he made an attempt to take their lives. Instead, his forces were forced into submission and the war was ended.Nevertheless, even in this universe Harry Potter doesn't get to live a peaceful life.Despite Voldemort being long gone his supporters spent the years after the war planning for the next. They rallied together and, during Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts, tried to finish what their Lord started. Thus began the Second War.Instead of losing yet more wands to a dying cause, the Order came up with a plan to stop the fighting.Unfortunately, this also meant the marriage of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter - two poor blokes that hadn't met before that fateful day at the alter.





	Something Borrowed, Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Voldemort fell during the first war at James and Lily Potter's wands the very night he made an attempt to take their lives. Instead, his forces were forced into submission and the war was ended.
> 
> Nevertheless, even in this universe Harry Potter doesn't get to live a peaceful life. 
> 
> Despite Voldemort being long gone his supporters spent the years after the war planning for the next. They rallied together and, during Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts, tried to finish what their Lord started. Thus began the Second War.
> 
> Instead of losing yet more wands to a dying cause, the Order came up with a plan to stop the fighting. 
> 
> Unfortunately, this also meant the marriage of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter - two poor blokes that hadn't met before that fateful day at the alter.

He always loved Fridays best.

On Fridays, Draco ate breakfast on his balcony. He'd eat a few pastries and sip away at his glass of orange juice while watching the sun envelope the gardens in a warm yellow. He sometimes read the paper, when Angelique bothered to bring it, but mostly just took the time to enjoy a little peace and quiet before the day began. Most Fridays Bruno would stretch out on the chair beside Draco, basking in the early morning sun.

On Fridays, his mother would spend her morning in the garden on her hands and knees. She'd have dirt tucked under her nails by quarter past eight, happy to exist peacefully in her small space as she hummed show tunes to herself. Her hair - usually so pristine and perfect - would be pulled up into an uncoordinated bun on top of her head. Each strand that fell in her eyes would soon be tucked behind her ears carelessly as she focussed her full attention on the rose bushes. His mother was a woman who spent so much of her time portraying the perfect picture of a sophisticated Pureblood wife that he had learned to treasure the moments she acted more like herself: they were so few and far between.

On Fridays, his father would have lunch with them on the family balcony. The usually so tight-lipped man would offer compliments to the flowers that grew within eyesight of where they sat. Mother would thank him graciously and tell them plans of what she'd like to do with one section or another and they'd all drink tea and chat for at least an hour and a half.

On Fridays, Draco would make the short walk to the market, smiling at the villagers as he walked past and wishing them a good afternoon. He'd chat a little with the stall owners as he browsed. Often he'd pick up some sunflowers for his mother and a bottle of wine that's fresh from the local vineyard for his father. Mostly he went to socialize - it wasn't much fun having only his parents and house elf to talk to all the time - but he always found something or other to bring back with him. 

On Fridays, they would eat dinner in the dining room together. It was always a Friday that his favourite dish would be served - Chicken Marengo. His parents would have a glass of wine with their meal while Draco would nurse an iced lemon soda. They'd talk about Draco's studies and his fathers work. His mother gave her input every now and then but spent most of the conversation smiling at both of them as she sipped her wine. Their house elf, Mipsy, would collect their plates and then serve them dessert, usually something light.

Fridays would end with Draco retiring to his bedroom to spend the evening reading. Bruno would lounge across his lap, lazily headbutting his hand to get Draco to stroke him. After, Draco would brush out his hair and braid it before getting ready for bed. He'd end the day just as relaxed as he'd started it.

It had been this way for as long as he could remember. Even if the rest of the week was unorganised and busy, Fridays were stress-free.

Unfortunately, it seemed like the pattern was about to be broken. 

His morning started with Mipsy knocking on his door, telling him his parents wanted him to join them for breakfast in the dining room. Any other day he wouldn't have batted an eyelid but it was a Friday and his mother should've already been in the garden by now. Nevertheless, he'd quickly gotten ready with only a slight frown to show his confusion. He unplaited his hair, pulling it back into a ponytail at the base of his neck and tying it with a thin black ribbon. Then he slipped his boots on and made his way down to the dining room. 

The Malfoy's dining room looked more like a conservatory than a dining room with the glass ceiling and full-length windows lining the walls. The design of the room was meant to let in as much light as possible and give the best view of the gardens. Other than the clock by the door, there wasn't much need for wall decorations and so there were none.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sat at the birch dining table: Lucius at the head with Narcissa perched in the chair closest to him. His mother sat with her hands folded in her lap, her eyes downcasted whereas his father met his eyes determinedly with his back straight. Both had sombre expressions painted across their faces. 

"Is everything alright?" Draco asked, frowning at the both of them as he stepped into the room. 

Lucius gestured to the chair at the opposite end of the table, "Take a seat Draco."

He did as he was told, although sitting in that position made him nervous. Having both his parents sat so far away was unusual and his mother still hadn't looked at him. 

Lucius cleared his throat, glancing at Narcissa momentarily before he turned his attention back to Draco.

"Your mother and I have something very important to discuss with you," He said, "We had hoped it would be much longer before we had to have a discussion like this but alas Lady Magic has not blessed it so." 

"What's going on?" Draco leaned forward in his seat, placing his hands on the table in front of him, "Is something wrong with-"

"Do not interrupt me Draco," Lucius's mouth tilted downwards slightly to indicate his displeasure, "This is a delicate issue."

Draco nodded, though he had no idea what could be so awful that his parents look like this. He hadn't ever seen them so sombre. 

"I received a letter late last night from the London Ministry of Magic," Lucius's face muscles clenched slightly, "They had a proposition for us."

What on earth could the Ministry of Magic want? Especially one based in London. They'd lived in France Draco's whole life, though he knew he was born in England, so surely if anyone were looking to speak with them about something important it would be the _Ministère des Affaires Magiques_. Draco hadn't the slightest clue to what people in London wanted with his family. 

"They have agreed to let us return to our home in Wiltshire so long as we agree to their terms." Lucius shifted in his seat, a rare show of nervousness from a man who usually shows so little emotion in his body language.

Return home? As far as he was aware, _this_ was their home. Their cottage in the south of France was the only home he'd ever know. His father's talk of returning home to Wiltshire sounded ridiculous. How could you return home when you hadn't left it in the first place? 

He knew his parents had lived in England for a long time, most of their lives even, but he'd heard the stories of the conflict that occurred there. He'd understood his mother when she told him tales of a mad man with his mad schemes and how it had brought his family shame. As far as Draco was aware, neither of them had had any inclination to return to a manor the English Ministry had seized for some time which was exactly why they had brought Draco - still a baby, then - to  France. 

So what was this talk of _home_? Of Wiltshire? By the sounds of it, this wasn't something they'd sprung on them. Just something his parents had decided to spring on _him_. Where was he, exactly, when they were making negotiations with the goal of going back to England.

Lucius sighed, "We did not call you here to discuss returning home but to explain the terms they set out for us." He sent his wife a sharp look that she ignored quite blatantly.

It was then that Draco turned his attention to his mother. She had yet to look p from the table, strange for a woman who was normally so good at playing hostess and commanding a room. She'd pinned her hair up for this, though she let two strands fall over her face as if they could shield her from whatever came next in this conversation.

"There's been unrest amongst a particular part of the community that they believe we can assist them with," Lucius said, "It's really quite an honour to serve your family like this Draco-"

"Your father means to have you wed to the Potter's boy." Narcissa suddenly interrupted, cutting off the pointless reassurances of honour and familial duty her husband was going to say. Her tone was harsh, as if she'd been biting her tongue for too long and had abruptly decided she'd had enough. 

Draco's mouth fell open slightly, racking his brain to understand exactly what his mother was saying. His father wanted him to marry... what utter nonsense. He was at least three years off of the proper marrying age. He had only just turned eighteen for Merlin's sake. His father couldn't really mean to wed him to a complete stranger. 

The boy who lived, no less. 

He'd learnt of Harry Potter even all the way in France. They weren't wrong when they said every wizard in the world would know his name, Draco had surely heard it enough. Hell, he was even taught some things about the boy by his tutors. They'd thought he'd find it interesting to learn about a boy his own age who was prophecised to do such brilliant things. If he was honest, Potter had sounded quite boring. 

The point was the whole thing sounded preposterous. The Potter's surely wouldn't have a Malfoy marrying their son, not if his mother's stories were to be believed (and they certainly _were_ ). 

Narcissa snapped her head up to look at her son, "Did you hear me? I said your _father_ -"

"Alright, Cissa, the boy heard you the first time." Lucius frowned at his wife, "Let him take a moment to digest the honour he's been given-"

"Honour!" Narcissa scoffed, sending her husband a glare, "Where is the honour in being passed over as a bargaining chip?"

"He will restore the family name-"

"He won't even carry the family name, Lucius!" Narcissa hissed, "They're to make him take Potters!"

Draco blocked both of them out. It was all too much information at once. All he wanted to do was crawl back to bed, pull the satin sheets over his head and pretend this was all a dream. He should never have gotten out of bed this morning. Breakfast in the dining room should've been enough to tip him off, he should have run like his life depended on it right then and there. 

Perhaps his life had. 

"-Oh don't pretend like this is for anyone other than yourself!" Narciss sneered, slamming her hands on the table hard enough to make Draco jump, "You've wanted to go back to Wiltshire since the moment we left! Merlin knows your position at the Ministry is far more important than your family!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Narcissa. The Malfoy's have held a seat at the Ministry of Magic since it became to be! It's an important tradition that generations of Malfoy's before us upheld!"

"Traditions have always been more important to you than your family. Think of what marriage gives them the right to do to your son, Lucius, or do you not care? Does a position at the Ministry mean that much to you?"

Lucius sneered, "Listen here-"

"Look what happened the last time we followed traditions, Lucius! We ended up linked to a mad man and practically exiled from our home!" 

Draco threw himself out of his chair so harshly that it slammed to the floor. Both his parents turned to look at him, watching him as if they'd forgotten he was even in the room. He wouldn't be surprised if they had. He'd heard enough. If he spent another minute in this room with them he might have exploded.  No, he had to leave.

Without bothering to look at either of them, Draco spun on his heel and rushed out of the room. 

Perhaps Fridays weren't so great after all.


End file.
